


Subtext

by DeansP1e



Series: What I Would Want/Allow My Crush to Do to Me [1]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: After Prom, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 12:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19790974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansP1e/pseuds/DeansP1e
Summary: This is basically what I would let my crush do to me in the bedroom, and as such, it is very self-indulgent. Read if you want, I don't care.





	Subtext

**Author's Note:**

> People in this are over 18 for legal reasons, I will not tell the names of the people nor the locations for safety reasons.

I lead her through my doorway, noting with a touch of pride that she has ease following me, this being one of many times she has followed me into my room.

She calls my name as I touch the ladder to my loft bed. It was a struggle to get the frame in there, my room is the smallest in my family home, only twenty by ten feet in an L shape with the ten feet being the bottom part of the L, but we managed nonetheless.

"Yeah," I say as I turn my head beside me. She's wearing a smile, which I am barely able to return, as my depression only allows me a straight face at all times.

She touches my face, which I lean into as my father was an abusive asshole who couldn't care less about his family if he tried: I've long since cut contact with him since we left him.

"Was prom better this year or is that just me?" She asks, caressing my cheek with her thumb. I let out a sigh in response. We wore matching outfits this year: a blue Mon Cheri dress for her (which I helped rent for her, as her family are farmers and I work at McDonald's. Classy, I know.) with a black corsage and my usual cowboy outfit with blue jeans, America Eagle blue striped shirt, my black tie in a full Windsor knot to accentuate my girl and my black cowboy hat.

"Maybe 'cause my entire friend group was there and so was yours?" Ah yes, my friends: Fat Bastard (which he doesn't mind being called, he's a bit like me in this regard.), Mad T (I play Magic the Gathering with him the most when the school year's on.); Thot Patrol (regardless of what he says, he's a typical straight guy. A bit weird but you have to be in this society.), Frizzy (his brother was a grade above us, he's a grade below us. I also play Magic with him.), and Walmart Guy (tall, fat, and funny. What more could you want?). We're called the Outcasts, for the reason you would think. Of course, I never hang out with her friends; they like me, but I can see they're just waiting for me to hurt her (however, they are also the ones who would also be called outcasts in the dreaded system known as High School.) I've sworn to myself that I won't screw this up, not like the last one.

"Probably." She sighs and kisses me. I return it as slowly as her, careful to not outpace her. Despite what you might think, she's really the one who started this relationship and the more dominant one in it. In fact, I can feel myself retreating into the corners of my mind now as she continues caressing my cheek.

She says my name like a command as she smacks my cheek, and I blink away the sensation.

"Already?" She smirks, eyes betraying what she already knows. I smile sheepishly.

"Sorry, ma'am," I say guiltily, rubbing the back of my neck. I'm still crawling back to awareness as I let slip what she decided to have me call her in the bedroom after I accidentally said in the moment, so to speak.

She 'tsk's her tongue, and says my name three times in fake disappointment.

"Never say sorry for that, what you should be sorry for is not telling me." She's still wearing that damned smirk. Damn it.

"I'm sorry for not letting you know."

Shit.

"Uh, ma'am," I finish, hopefully looking satisfyingly reprimanded.

"Knees."

Only one word, but I know what to do: I get on my knees and rest my head on her stomach. She pulls off my hat and sets it aside and pulls my hair in the way she knows I love, making me look up at her. Of course, I sneak a glance at her breasts, which I know is perked up by a push-up bra but arousing nonetheless. I look at her face: her eyes got fierce fast, normally it takes longer. Perhaps she was feeling the effects of what I was feeling? Either way, she's got me breathing heavily and in subspace in no time.

"Ma'am, may I touch you?" I say in between breaths. "Please?"

She imperceptibly nods, and it has its intended effect: I reach with one hand and touch her thigh gingerly while the other in reaching around to her ass. I squeeze it and make her breathe out a sigh.

"You may undress me."

When she releases my head, I stand and make my way around her. She has a zipper on her dress, and I unzip it, kissing her back in reverence as I go. I help her out of the, frankly, over-complicated dress and undo the clasps of her bra. Before she takes it off, though, she holds it in place with her hands and she turns. Apparently, she wants me to see her breasts fall, which is something she has rarely done before. I am honored by this as I put my hands over hers and simultaneously let the bra fall. My dick, already hard from before, twitches at the sight. She holds up a hand when I reach for her panties.

"Before you completely undress me, beg like the good boy you are."

I drop to my knees again hastily, so eager to just get started already.

"Please, ma'am, you know I can't stand all this slow shit." My breath catches on a couple of words as I stroke the inside of her thigh gently. Though my words are crude, it is how she knows I'm ready as she pulls down her panties slowly, making my breath hitch in anticipation and relief when her pussy is shown. It turns out she's been waiting for this as well as she throws her panties aside in a careless manner when she normally puts it on my desk.

"Follow."

She walks to my chair, a shitty old thing that is either leaning with or against you that broke when my step-dad leaned too far back and fell, and I follow by shuffling my knees. She sits down and doesn't have to order me to get to work on her pussy. She calls my name louder than she should, and she should consider herself lucky that my sister is with her fiance on his parent's farm and my parents are staying in a bigger town forty-five minutes away. Still, wouldn't want to get a noise complaint.

She pulls my hair again, pulling me deeper. I revel in it: this is my favorite thing to do and right now, it's what I need as well. I lick along her labia, groaning in the back of my throat to put some vibration through.

I lick and suck her clit and labia and even tonguefuck her until she pulls my head away after some time has passed.

"That was very satisfying," she says my name again. She stands and motions for me to do the same, and when I am fully standing, she palms my crotch, steps close to me and puts her hand on my chest. All of this sensation at once pulls a low moan out of me.

"Would you like your reward?" She asks and immediately gets a nod in response, and responds in kind by grinning deviously. My knees ache (I have mild arthritis.) as I undress, first taking off my tie, tossing it on my desk to deal with later, then unclipping my suspenders, again tossing them aside, then my shirt and my pants. Unconsciously, I rub my knees as I kick off my underwear, which my girl notices.

"Do your knees hurt?" She asks as her smile falls, more as a formality than any need to know. She already knows, of course, she's seen my legs suddenly stop working or I have to grab a nearby ledge to stand or I use my cane when it gets really bad.

"Yes, ma'am."

She gestures me up the ladder to my bed and when I finally sink into it, I am unable to contain a deep sigh of relief as my muscle relax and my joints release some pressure, though, my dick is still hard. My girl sinks into my side and I wrap an arm around her.

"I'm giving you a handjob," she says.

"Do whatever you want to me, ma'am," I respond and she grins once more as she wraps a delicate hand so very lightly over my cock. She strokes ever so lightly and lovingly, and in fact, this goes on over the course of fifteen minutes, and just when I'm ready to burst, she orders me to not come until she says. Since I have barely a modicum (heh, cum.) of willpower and self-control, however, this is all very tiring and difficult. After ten seconds, she finally, blessedly lets me cum as she grips my cock harder and strokes faster. Two tiddlywinks of cum is all I can manage as I masturbated the night before. Like I said, no self-control.

She grabs a towel for both me and herself from below the bed, and I pant heavily, wishing for water as I come out of subspace.

"Can you grab me some water while you're down there?" I ask with my mouth dry, which has the effect of my voice sounding like a dying animal.

"Sure," she says, her voice sounding much better than mine. Oh, what I wouldn't give for a better voice. I have a speech impediment where my s's draw out and I sound stupid. My love comes back up with my metal water bottle and the washcloth, and she hands both to me.

Presuming she already did the same, I wipe myself clean, tossing the washcloth into my dirty clothes basket when I'm done. I take a sip of water.

"Thank you," I mutter into her ear when she sinks back into my side and I wrap my arm back around her.

"No, thank _you_ , that was a good one you said," she smiles as she says this.

I furrow my brow in confusion.

The silent question goes answered as she speaks in a bad imitation of my voice, "'Do whatever you want to me, ma'am.'"

I snort. "Of course, why wouldn't it be that one," I ask in a humorous sarcastic tone.

She laughs, smiling fondly as she draws circles into my chest. I kiss her, going slow again as I'm very tuckered out. However, it seems she wants to pick up the pace, so I pull away and she tilts her head in that cute way she does when she's confused.

"Sorry but I'm tired," I say her name, "I really wanna go to bed." I chuckle at the end of it and she nods.

"Me too," she says in a conceding tone of voice. She eventually lays her head down on my chest.

"Night, babe," I kiss her head, "I love you dearly."

I know the feeling's returned when I fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> here's for wishful thinking, guys. *raises my glass of water*  
> also, this came out a dream that kept me up through the night, so hurrah for that.  
> also also, i did no editing for this, this was all done by my tired brain.


End file.
